


Reading the Signs

by XYDamianKane



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU, Nightwing (Comics)
Genre: Age Play, Daddy Kink, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, OK all things considered...this is quite sweet, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Pseudo-Incest, Subspace, Trans Male Character, Vaginal Sex, i guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-08
Updated: 2019-09-08
Packaged: 2020-10-12 07:03:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20560199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XYDamianKane/pseuds/XYDamianKane
Summary: Dick is really tired, so his brain involuntarily slips him into little space. Obviously Bruce notices. It ~gets taken care of~.





	Reading the Signs

Bruce knows all of Dick’s tells, even out of the corner of his eye. 

For starters, he’s making himself physically smaller, professional posture long since abandoned. Dick is hugging his knee to his chest and resting his chin there.

Bruce sees him chewing the inside of his cheek, trying to avoid putting his fingers in his mouth. 

_Good thing no one expects more from Nightwing tonight_, Bruce thinks. If he can’t even hold himself together as off-duty-Dick for _Tim’s_ sake, getting into character as Nightwing would be a lost cause.

At least the end of this debrief is in sight. Tim can sometimes get lost in the details, but he seems to have a good grasp on the trajectory of this particular case.  
Dick hugs himself with one arm and buries his face in his elbow. 

Bruce instinctively checks to see if someone has noticed something is _ up _ with Nightwing. Barbara seems to have already checked out, though she’s still on the video call.

Tim has noticed, because Tim notices everything, but clearly has clearly taken their talk about boundaries to heart. Maybe he’s seen Dick like this before-- maybe Dick slips into little space _ whenever _ he’s tired, even if Bruce isn’t around to help. Poor boy.

Bruce waits for Tim to reach a reasonable cut-off point and grunts, “That’s enough for now, Robin. I know I’ll hear about it in your report.” He tries to put as much authority behind it as he can, to shield Dick from the others’ attention.

Tim startles out of his fixation and looks at Bruce wide-eyed. “Oh--OK. It is pretty standard Court activity, I guess. I’ll go type that up, then,” he stammers and flees across the cave to his computer station. He knows what Bruce is asking of him, and Bruce is very, very grateful.

“Good talk. Oracle, out,” Barbara says without looking up and she immediately signs off.

Bruce takes off the cowl and stands. He walks over to Dick and kneels beside his chair. 

“Let’s get you taken care of, yeah?”

Dick stops pressing his face into the safe darkness of his elbow and looks up at Bruce. The woven pattern from the suit's fabric is imprinted on his forehead, above the mask.

Bruce keeps his face neutral as he catches a thumb under a corner of the mask, gently teasing it from Dick’s face. 

“Upstairs? Please,” Dick says, and it’s only a little higher-pitched than usual.

"Of course,” Bruce says, “but let’s get you out of your work clothes, first, OK?”

“OK.”

Dick was such a chatty kid--and tends to be a chattier adult, when he’s not upset. When he’s like this, though--he’s _ shy _ and that was the first sign Bruce ever picked up. Not that he had assumed it indicated this, per se.

Bruce herds him towards the lockers and helps Dick change into a spare set of training clothes, for now. He keeps Dick in his line of sight as he strips out of the suit himself, just hanging it over the door for now. Dick is chewing his thumb and won't look at him directly. Then he's ready, and they almost match: loose sweatpants and free Gotham Fun-Run t-shirts. 

Bruce takes Dick’s hand as they walk upstairs.

“Are you hungry, baby?”

“No, _Bruce_,” Dick says, playing at resisting, even if his tone of voice gives away the game. His body language is all _ little_. Still hard to say just _ how _ little.

“Who’s Bruce?” 

Dick wrinkles up his nose.

“Is someone sleepy?”

“A little bit,” Dick’s words come out clumsier than usual, and it makes Bruce melt. He doesn’t let it show. They click open the clock and head for the Eastern staircase.

“Do you want something?”

“Want to cuddle,” Dick says, almost pouting.

“Of course. Gotta get into pajamas first, though.” 

“Yeah.”

The short sentences make Bruce suspect that Dick is very young, right now. Definitely too young to register being patronized, or to bristle at being read as younger. He’ll test the waters.

They’ve made it to the smallest guest suite, where they keep...play equipment.  
The rooms are more modern than the others--no antiques to worry about damaging. It’s cozier, too, decorated for comfort. Bruce had wanted to remove any possible obstacles in exploring this with Dick.

He helps Dick down on the bed, and Dick immediately pulls his legs up to his chest.

Bruce sits down behind him and reaches to help undo Dick’s ponytail. He gently shakes the hair loose and runs his fingers through it a few times, working out the worst of the tangles. It’s gotten so long; it falls just past his shoulders, now. 

Bruce walks over to the dresser pulls one of the onesies (printed with a circus motif) and glances at Dick. Bruce holds it with a raised eyebrow and Dick nods.

“Want the elephant one,” Dick says. He looks more comfortable than he did downstairs, but not by much.

Bruce reaches into the back of the drawer and fishes out the elephant pacifier by feel. 

He helps Dick out of the workout clothes and lays him back on the bed. Bruce puts him in some striped briefs, first. (Dick has to be in a very specific mood for diapers and the fact that he’s still using words is tip-off enough that it’s not on the table tonight.)

He sits Dick back up just enough to pull the onesie over his head, and then pushes him gently back down to snap it into place.   
“Say ‘ah’.”

Dick complies, and Bruce pops the pacifier in his mouth. It’s made for this kind of play, so it’s held up to the ferocity of Dick’s oral fixation. Dick’s eyes close blissfully: he’s _ finally _ free to chew on something. He visibly relaxes, succumbing to the pull of little space fully.

He’s also getting hard, slowly but surely. His dick pushes up against the fabric there. When he wants help, he knows he has to ask for it. 

Bruce lays down beside him and rubs his open hand in circles on his belly. He likes his big hands in this space: they feel protective instead of clumsy. Besides, they make Dick look even smaller under him. 

Dick makes a small, pleased sound and fidgets, pushing his hips up. Bruce works his hand downwards slowly, making circles.

“What do we say, baby?” Bruce tugs the pacifier out of Dick’s mouth.

Dick pouts and tosses his head to the side.

“I can’t hear you,” Bruce hums, smiling, and moves his hand back up.

“Please?”

“Please what?”

“Please touch me,” Dick huffs.

“Since you asked so nicely,” Bruce feels himself glowing with pride.  
He rubs Dick through the onesie, but it isn’t enough. He unsnaps it and rucks it up. He'll touch through the briefs, for now. He can feel a little wet spot on the cotton already.

Dick ruts against him, squirming. Bruce sees his feet kick out a little bit, and his socks make them slide against the comforter.

“Feels weird, Daddy.”

Bruce draws back his hand and looks up. 

“Good weird or bad weird?”

Dick doesn’t say anything but throws his arm over his face and hides in his elbow again. It takes a few seconds, but he wiggles a little bit, and Bruce takes that as a “good weird”.

“Do you want your blanket?”

“Noooo,” Dick grumbles. 

Bruce stands up to go get it from the armchair and drops it within arm’s reach, just in case.

He realizes the actual problem, picks up the pacifier, and holds it up again. He taps Dick twice, a silent question, and Dick peeks out from behind his elbow.

Dick’s mouth falls open to accept it, and Bruce goes back to rubbing Dick’s erection. His hand covers it almost entirely. Dick grasps at the blanket and he lets out these sweet little muffled moans.

Bruce pulls himself against Dick’s side and gently ruts against his hip, just to take the edge off. Dick squirming against him just makes everything hotter. 

Dick is getting impatient, but he hasn’t spoken up about it, so Bruce changes tactics. He sits up and Dick whines at the loss of contact. 

“What’s that noise for?”

Bruce pulls off his sweatpants and props himself up on one elbow. He spits in his hand and spreads it around the wetness already coming from his cunt.

“I’m waiting, baby.”

Dick has gone entirely wordless. All he can do now is whine. 

Bruce can wait, Bruce can make himself come like this. He doesn’t want to but he’s jerking his clit and watching Dick pant and squirm next to him and it’s all _ so much _. He uses his free hand to smooth Dick’s hair back from where it’s mussed over his forehead.

The pacifier lolls in the corner of his mouth.

“P-please, please, Dad, I--”

Bruce straddles Dick, takes him in hand and guides himself down in one practiced motion. It’s easy: Dick’s smaller than most of their toys, but there’s still a little more friction than Bruce is used to.

“Shh, good job baby. Let me take care of you,” he soothes.

Dick can’t stop his hips from twitching up but isn’t trying to take charge, because he _ can’t_.

Bruce melts with a fondness he only ever feels for Dick and slowly starts to fuck down onto him.

Dick’s little noises escape more often, now. They get punched out of him with every stroke and Bruce didn’t realize how much he needed to hear them.

He speeds up, sooner than he usually does. He’s jerking himself off with two fingers. The _rub_ of it is a little drier than he normally likes, but this is about taking care of Dick, isn’t it? 

Sweet, vulnerable Dick, who is is quietly sobbing beneath him. _God_, it should not turn Bruce on as much as it does.

Dick grabs the blanket and hides his face in it. 

Bruce drops all the way down, and switches to grinding into his own hand. Dick’s muffled cries get louder. Bruce can’t parse a safeword, so he keeps going.

It only takes a few seconds before Bruce tenses and comes. He goes back to the rocking motion from before to help Dick finish.

“You’re allowed to come, baby,”

He feels Dick’s muscles tense as soon as he hears it. Dick screams and pants into the blanket as he comes inside him.

“You did so well, my good boy,” Bruce soothes, gently pulling the blanket away. He leans down to kiss Dick. He trembles under Bruce’s mouth. 

Bruce pulls himself slowly off of Dick’s lap.

“It’s past your bedtime, baby, but we’ve got to get cleaned up first.”

Dick just whines. 

“Come on, little one. Remember what you need to do if you want something?”

“Mm. Sleepy.”

Bruce looks him in the eyes and signs the letter “C”, asking for Dick’s color status without breaking character.

“Green. Just...sleepy.” Dick’s voice is clearer, deeper now. He sits up and wiggles back into his underwear.

“Can we sleep in your bed tonight?”

“Sure, Dick.”

Dick smiles. It pierces Bruce’s heart with how _open_ it is, like it always does.

**Author's Note:**

> *OK honestly this came out way sweeter than I anticipated but I don't hate it so
> 
> *If you do this kind of scene in real life, obviously check in with your partner better/more than Bruce does here.
> 
> *Babs isn't paying attention cause she has more important shit to do with the Birds of Prey
> 
> *Why is involuntary little space so...good. I think it's the enforced vulnerability of it all.
> 
> *This was low-key inspired by a scene in YJ S3 where Dick fever dreams so hard he hallucinates being a child again...much to think about.


End file.
